


Unforgivable

by DrainCyanide



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Angst, Battleworld, Love Confession, M/M, Mutually Unrequited, Secret Wars, mutual love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:48:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23373436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrainCyanide/pseuds/DrainCyanide
Summary: People do not trust Doctor Doom. And they have many reasons to do so. Yet, Doctor Strange agrees to disagree with the entire world. No one knows the true Victor von Doom like the Sorcerer Supreme. However, Stephen is about to learn how wrong he is, and at the worst of times.
Relationships: Stephen Strange/Victor von Doom
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Unforgivable

**Author's Note:**

> This work takes place after Doctor Strange v5 and during the events seen in Doctor Doom #2. Hickman’s Secret Wars is highly recommended. Small references to Bendis’ Infamous Iron Man and Triumph & Torment.
> 
> This prompt came into light when I was discussing the repercussions of Secret Wars with @the_casual_cheesecake and how it affected Victor and Stephen's relationship. Somehow, we found a way to prove that Stephen remembers it all, which will be explained during the narrative.
> 
> PS: apologies in advance for any errors.
> 
> PPS: This work is a gift to all people in the Doomstrange server ♡

“In order to save the world, I’ll rebuild it exactly as it once was, before the turning point that resulted in our extinction,” he said to Eternity and the Living Tribunal.

He was just a man. His mental faculties were not supposed to bear such abstract concepts as Eternity and the origins of this dimension. But he is Doctor Strange, Sorcerer Supreme and Master of the Mystic Arts – and for that particular moment out of time and space, he became omniscient. He rebuilt this world from scratch, altering not the stream of time. All misery, tragedy and disgrace, working as opposition to kindness and benevolence. From the rise and fall of men to the exact numbers of fallen leaves in every winter as the blue butterflies headed to the South.

Stephen thought he was aware of every event that has ever happened on Earth, no matter how little or insignificant to mortal eyes they seemed. He felt like a god. A know-it-all entity. But he was wrong.

Something happened out of time and space. Something that was hidden even from the Sorcerer Supreme’s keen eyes and senses. He was there, although he couldn’t remember it. Standing next to God Emperor Doom and working as his Sheriff, Stephen was responsible for keeping the peace in a place called Battleworld. Until he was murdered by Victor’s hands.

Reed Richards resurrected Stephen and erased his memories when he restored our reality. That’s why he had no memory of this… _incident_. Stephen was forced to know now because there were certain events linked to the end of Battleworld which demanded his attention, but he was _not_ pleased. He felt like a fool for trusting Victor when he took Tony’s legacy and became the Infamous Iron Man. He believed in Victor. He was… betrayed, lied to. And now he was forced to relive this chain of misery. Or worse, he was forced to remember it for the rest of his life.

***

“Doctor Doom, recently accused of terrorism and stripped of diplomatic privileges, surrenders to authorities,” the news anchor utters. “Victor von Doom, the worldly infamous king of Latveria and part-time enemy of the hero community, surrendered to a special British taskforce this evening during a direct confront in Doomstadt, Latveria, after being accused of destroying the Antlion Control Center on the moon. Doom will answer for terrorism to the U.N. International Criminal Tribunal in New York City. Competent authorities are gathering enhanced super-humans from all over the world powerful enough to escort this dangerous man to our country. More about the Antlion Project in--”

“No, ma’am, he can’t answer your call right now. With all due respect, ma’am, he’s a very busy man, I assure you. Have I mentioned he’s responsible for protecting our entire dimension from mystic threats?” Stephen lies on the phone as the news keep showing videos of the explosion on the moon.

Stephen hates government duty. He’s not bound to any country or human bureaucracy. The reason he refused to be an Avenger (Luke Cage’s team doesn’t count, they were all outlaws) is precisely the committing to the U.S. government, not to mention S.H.I.E.L.D. and so many other organizations. Stephen deals with magic, and magic can’t be capitalized. At least, not yet.

“But Doctor Strange is the best when it comes to hocus pocus material! He’s the only one powerful enough to stop Doctor Doom if all goes wrong!”

“Well, in that case-- Wait. Did you just say ‘Doctor Doom’? Could you please tell me again what the U.N. is requesting from Doctor Strange?”

“In short?” the woman sighs and groans by the other side of the line. “We need to escort Doctor Doom to New York. And we need Doctor Strange to secure him. Doom is brilliant in both science and magic. We have competent personnel in the scientific field, but not a magic expert. It’s of utmost importance that we contact Doctor Strange!”

“In that case,” Stephen waves his hand, commanding his cloak to rest on his shoulders, “consider it done.”

As he hangs up, an arcane symbol appears on the floor, teleporting Stephen to the exact point where the aircraft awaits and the transfer team is gathered. They were about to fly without mystic guidance, and Stephen reprimanded their amateurism.

“Don’t you know how powerful Doom is, even restrained? A word is enough for a mystic of his magnitude to destroy the ship and everyone aboard. Honestly, to think you all underestimate such dangerous sorcerer, even you, Sable--”

“ _Thank you_. For covering my face.”

A man walks into the group, escorted by Agent Zero and Union Jack. Doctor Doom was unrecognizable, a whole different figure. The only metal covering his body was his handcuffs. He was wearing ordinary garb. An improvised shirt, perhaps too large for his body type, green jeans and sneakers. His scars were hidden by a scarf, resembling a western bandit. The wind was messing his brown hair up and his face was wistful.

Stephen hesitates when their eyes meet. Victor’s eyes have always been sad, even when they had Battleworld.

_Battleworld. I cannot forget Battleworld, no matter how heartbroken you seem. You’re just a liar, Victor._

Stephen looks at the prisoner, a sharp stare replete of mistrust and judgement. Victor addresses to him, but the sorcerer replies with sour mockery. He cannot show weakness. He cannot flinch. Especially now.

”On behalf of the Fantastic Four, I--” H.E.R.B.I.E., the newest version of Reed’s android, asserts.

“Are you _serious_? Richards couldn’t even be bothered?”

 _Don’t bring Reed into this conversation. Do not bring him_ , Stephen struggles by the inside. Reed had no right to erase Stephen’s memories, but perhaps he was trying to protect his friend. Perhaps Reed wasn’t aware that Stephen did not fear death. He’d rather face the truth – no matter how painful it was – than supporting Victor all these years.

_Lies, so many lies._

“Richards – along with a few _hundred_ others – is leading recovery efforts on the moon after the _atrocity_ you committed.”

Victor flinches, his eyes delating the pain brought by those words. Stephen was the only one who supported him when he embraced goodness. Stephen trusted him like no one else. He was different now. Something changed and he could feel it.

“So you really think I did this?” their eyes meet once more.

 _You lied to me. You murdered me!_ Stephen’s inner voice screams as his enraged eyes pierce through Victor’s soul.

Stephen does not answer to his question. Instead, he explains how they will proceed with the prisoner transfer. An indifferent, cold explanation, nonetheless.

***

They do not exchange words for long hours. The Sorcerer Supreme only observes the fallen king in silence. They’ve been in hell, but nothing could compete with that living torture.

“We’ve been to hell and back, Strange,” Victor grumbles, almost as if he was reading Stephen’s mind. He was upset for he called him by his last name. That’s how much Stephen knew Victor, although he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“A few times,” the sorcerer replies. “You even tried to _leave_ me there once.”

When they fought Mephisto side by side, Victor sold Stephen out. However, it was all a façade to trick the devil. Victor did not intend to leave Stephen behind. That’s what he thought until the truth about Battleworld emerged. Now he recalled their interactions with mistrust. Would it be possible that Victor always used him? Stephen was a fool. Victor only saved him because he was a potential ally, not because Victor _cared_. He never did.

“None of this is my doing. I swear on my mother’s _soul_. That should mean something to you,” the prisoner raises his eyes. He sounds hurt, yet Stephen struggles to believe him.

_How can I trust you? You murdered me and never apologized for it. Why are you like this, Victor? Why am I so hurt for what you did to me? We’re not friends. We’re not close. Why do I ache for your apologies so much?_

Doctor Strange finally looks away, succumbing to the weight of his pain. He wants to cry, but his tears are denied by the circumstances. He leaves Victor before he loses the battle to himself. In the cockpit, he talks to the team about politics and the future of Latveria. He does not want to think about Victor. He does not want to _face_ him.

Still, fate is an impish little devil. Stephen would avoid Victor for a while, but not under his terms. Doom escaped the aircraft through an explosion – with a little help, of course. Stephen hit his head against the equipment and passed out. Fate would claim that they were not done yet.

***

“Can I count on you to locate Doom, Stephen? I’m aware that he’s capable of hiding his mystic energies from you, yet I believe in your… magic skills, or rather, science that I don’t understand yet.”

Silence on the other side. Reed’s voice is difficult to process due to the recent findings. Stephen wants to think of Richards as a good man, a good friend. However, trusting is becoming a hard issue to the Sorcerer Supreme. The Illuminati’s past doesn’t help. They’ve done terrible things together. They banished Bruce Banner from Earth. They destroyed entire planets in the name of this dimension. They were not good people, Stephen included.

“Why have you erased my memories, Reed?” Stephen dares to ask in an impulse.

“E-Excuse me? I don’t--”

“You _do_ understand. Battleworld. You restored our reality, you saved us all. In fact, you brought me back to life, and then you tampered with my memories. I want to know why. Is that because Victor killed me? Were you trying to protect me?”

“I…” Reed sighs. He’s on the moon, looking down to Earth. “Yes, Stephen. I was trying to protect you from a traumatic experience.”

“Reed. I’m not afraid of dying. I’ve faced death before. You wanted me back because I’m the best sorcerer you’ve ever met and the world needs me. But you couldn’t afford a broken Stephen, could you? You didn’t want me to fight Doctor Doom and hesitate due to what he has done to me.”

“You… You’re not wrong. I had it all considered in my mind. But you _have_ to believe me when I say I did care about your condition and mental health, Stephen. We’re friends. It’s obvious that I want you around.”

“Please, don’t. I’ll find Victor, although I’m not doing it for you. Consider us even after that,” Stephen hangs up. The sunlight is timidly touching the wooden floor of the Sanctum Sanctorum, having a difficult time to go through the Window of the Worlds. Everything else is dark around the mage. Only if loneliness and uncertainty could be materialized. This way, he could fight them instead of struggling with abstract concepts.

***

The fallen king was hiding in an abandoned church in New York. As all heroes know, they’re not really abandoned. Sometimes, you may find a woman made of light and a man made of darkness occupying the place. At other times, a devil is resting on gargoyles made of stone. There are times when you can even find a cult performing a ritual. Luckily, that one was truly empty.

Victor was not the religious type. He’d rather be god than worshiping one, although the last attempt didn’t really work out.

He managed to get his armor back. His next step would be proving his innocence and taking Latveria back from the usurper.

“All is according to my plan. They _will_ pay for that insolence,” he murmurs as he runs a diagnosis on the armor’s system.

“And you will pay for your crimes, Doom!” a bolt of mystic energy crosses the church toward the king. The blast hits with immense impact, destroying some benches and blowing Victor away.

“Strange!” he stands up with certain effort, holding his wounded arm. “I had enough of your foolishness. Go away before I--”

“You what? I dare you to end the sentence, you arrogant pile of tyranny!” the Sorcerer Supreme yells at the entrance of the church, striking yet again with the Bolts of Balthakk.

Victor protects himself with the Shield of the Seraphim. He’s angry and tired. He _is_ a monster, but he’s innocent this time. Yet, he does not have the energy to argue. He knows the language of violence way better than any other form of expression. And so he retaliates.

“By the secret fire which burns in the womb of Earth, I invoke the Flames of Faltine!” he raises his hands as flames erupt from the floor.

Stephen then extinguishes the fire with a storm provided by the Vapors of Valtorr. The Cloak of Levitation makes him float, giving him advantage to strike with a simple spell of containment. Victor does not bow. He invokes the Winds of Watoomb against his enemy.

They’re not strong enough to overthrow the Master of the Mystic Arts, though. Victor will lose this battle unless he calls upon to a stronger spell.

“By the powerful three, the omniscient Vishanti! Hoggoth, Agamotto and Oshtur! Let my enemy perish by my hand through thy power, let him--”

“You dare call upon the Vishanti?” Victor’s spell is interrupted when Stephen throws himself into the king’s body. The impact forces Victor to fall, and the sorcerer pins both his wrists against the floor. However, Stephen’s hands are shaking harder than usual. His whole body is trembling. He’s barely immobilizing his enemy and his voice is cracking. “You dare use the very same spells I taught you against me?”

 _Stephen_ … Victor hesitates. He could swear Stephen was falling apart.

“How could you use me like that? How… How could you? I don’t really care about dying, I’m over it. But when it comes to us… I was just a tool, wasn’t I? You used me. You lied to me and then you… You murdered me…” warm tears dropped on Victor’s mask with a muffled metallic echo, although he couldn’t feel them. “I know you remember. I supported you when no one else did. You knew it and you didn’t say a thing back then! You… You never apologized…”

The tears keep coming.

“Would it have made any difference?” Victor replies with a cold tone as he looks away.

“W-What…”

“It wouldn’t. How does one apologize for murdering the only person capable of caring for such monstrosity? There’s no way I can atone for this sin, Strange. You’re not supposed to forgive me. Just… Embrace your hatred. Despise me. Take revenge upon me. Those are your only options. Our story was doomed from the very beginning.”

“I… You know I can’t… I… I really loved you, Victor…”

“I know,” the fallen king replies. “As you can see, I do not deserve your love.”

“So it was all a lie? The time I spent in Latveria, the time I saved your soul from Thano’s assault? The time you became Iron Man and we fought Mephisto once more? Were you really using me all this time?”

“My word is not reliable anymore, Stephen. Why are you asking this?”

“Because you owe me that.”

Victor sighs. He’s not capable of staring at Stephen. He lacks strength to do so. What a pathetic weakling he has become.

“It was not a lie. I always valued our partnership greatly.”

Stephen knows he’s telling the truth. The Eye of Agamotto was closed, but the light of truth was bathing the king without his acknowledgement.

“I… I wish Battleworld never happened,” Stephen releases Victor’s wrists and regains his composure. He helps the king stand up and they finally stare at each other.

“You cannot erase the past, Stephen. No matter how much you regret your mistakes and want to make amends. Now, if you excuse me, I need to prove my innocence to the world,” Victor walks across the church corridor, but hesitates for a brief moment. “I won’t apologize for I do not desire to be forgiven. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. This is my punishment for murdering you. Perhaps this never-ending pain will go away when my time comes. Goodbye, Stephen.”

Victor then teleports away using his device. He does not hide his track from Stephen because he knows he won’t be followed.

The sorcerer directs his attention to the roof of the church, partly destroyed due to their brawl. He can see the moon, probably Victor’s next stop. Stephen touches the Eye of Agamotto. He is aware of Victor’s pain and regret. He’s aware that Victor will never allow himself to be loved by someone. They’re not so different, after all.

Lastly, Stephen smiles.

_I forgive you._


End file.
